The Way Back
by Ckyblaze
Summary: A fan-fiction about Harry Flynn, his way back from Shambhala, and the troubles on the way.
1. I : Shambhala

I. SHAMBHALA  
A faint streak of consciousness appeared in the ancient Tibetan temple. It was barely there, struggling to gather impressions of the surroundings. But the hazy images of old pillars did not make much sense. _Wasn't he supposed to be dead?_ He barely managed to breathe. It felt like someone had beaten him with a sledge in the chest. Then there was the white noise in his ears. It spread like a wildfire in his head, making him wish he had not regained his awareness. A part of the roof had caved in next to him, that he could see because from above came a beam of sunlight. Some of those blue glowing roots had been broken by the falling stone. Now the sap was dropping everywhere. It dropped onto his face, on his clothes and on the floor. Trying to get away from the foul tasting sap Harry Flynn tried to move. The pain seemed to vibrate through his flesh and bones as if it had a life of its own. He could not move his legs. And the pain in his right arm was so immense and blackening that it made him open his mouth and emit such a growl that it overcame the white noise in his head. Then the eyesight faded again as his last energy drained from him. The darkness was blissful.

It was some time later, when the cold sun had sunk low enough to peer at him from the side that he awoke. The sun was shining in from the mouth of the open stone arc, just to the right from that place where he had blown away that journalist. It just slightly warmed his back as he struggled to open his eyes. This time the world was more lucid, and the colours enhanced by the setting sun. The white noise that had resembled a torturing room radio had cleared away. Instead it was like the waves rolling up on a quiet shore. Sometimes the noise faded away completely. Giving up a sigh of relief, Harry rolled over to his back once again. His legs were better now. They were hurting, but not that horribly much as before. He willed himself up into a sitting position. Small fragments of grenade splinters fell of him together with the settled dust. As he looked down on his right hand and arm he realized they were full of splinters. He looked at it with trepidation, not only was his hand full of splinters, they had all somehow _grown_ into his skin already. For a moment he hesitated, as all men do before exposing themselves to pain. Then he took the largest piece and pulled it out.

"Shi-it!" He gasped as the piece fell to the ground. Then he pulled out another one, and another one. Now at least he did not need to have that metal in his flesh! After a few shaky minutes he managed to continue with his arm and legs, although they were not so badly afflicted as his hand. The sun was almost at the horizon when he finished, spreading its blood red light over the valley of Shambhala. Until now he had not thought of the complete silence surrounding him, but now he noticed that there was no gunfire. Perhaps Lazarevich had found what he searched for, thought Harry. Was there really no giant Sapphire? Was it only this damn Tree of Life with its blue sap? He frowned and rose to his feet, realizing how dirty and stained his clothes were. He had come here to earn his pay, but instead only found a damn tree! Now he would never get his money, nor any treasure! His eyes went around the surroundings. Those horribly ugly blue beasts were nowhere to be seen or heard. While thinking of them, it was as if a hidden door opened in his mind. Harry blinked a few times. Why had he not thought of that earlier? Obviously the blue men were _connected with the sap of the Tree_… It had made them mad. And it had made them almost invincible. That must have been the connection between all that had occurred. That old German… Schaefer, he had lived in Tibet for 70 years! Harry looked at his hand again. It still hurt, but the wound had closed. His eyes went upwards to the broken roof, remembering vaguely how a root had broken under the weight of the stone. The root was dead, but on the floor beneath it, where he had lain, were dried pools of sap. A small smile appeared on his face when he connected the dots. Behind his back, the sun set behind the ancient mountains.

He spent the night at the same alcove. Before the first rays of the sun reached the valley he was already on his way. His path was set towards the Tree of Life. As he came nearer he saw the gruesome sight of dozens of bodies. They were Lazarevich's men. Someone had been feeding on them during the night, leaving some of them simply dismembered. Others were too gruesome of a sight and Harry went in circles around them. He came upon a FAL rifle; the only one with any bullets left, in it and picked it up. One never knew who could appear around the corner. As he followed the softly lit way down, he pondered on how much this sap, or its resin, could be worth on the market. The answer struck him like a lightning bolt. _Millions and billions of Euros…!_ He could retire from the world of so-called treasure hunting and mercenaries for ever if he wished! A gold coloured sun rose above the Himalayas as he thought this, making him stop. The gilded rooftops of the temples in the valley all shone up as the gentle rays hit them, lighting up as a jewellery shop. The water drops from a passing rain enhanced the light coming from the sky. The trees lit up like emerald gemstones around him. It was indeed something special with this forgotten valley, as if the time itself could not touch it. For the first time in a long time Harry felt humble about what he saw. What was the urban jungle compared to this? His thought wandered to his small downtown apartment. Comparing it with Shambhala was like comparing a rock with the Crown Jewels of Britain. Swallowing, he returned to the task at hand. He scaled down the broken walkway to the yet dark depths, landing close to the archaic moss-covered roots of the Tree. A distinct smell of burned resin made him look around. The Tree had suffered from the collapsed walkway around it, but it was already healing, assimilating the stone blocks into itself, just as his own flesh had absorbed the metal. Feeling slightly discomfited by the thought Harry continued deeper into the undergrowth.

There were obvious signs of a battle here, a battle that Drake had obviously won. On the ground lay the dead white faced body of Lazarevich. His scars had been healed, making his appearance less detestable. The ground beside him was scorched from the burning resin. Harry walked over to a root that seemed to be untouched by the fire, looking closely. It was indeed pure blue. Returning to the dead body, Harry relieved him of his knife and .45 Defender before walking back to the resin. There he carved out a fistful of the dried resin. He put them in a leather pouch, tying it with a double knot to his belt. As he did this, he heard talk from above. Scurrying into the darkness of a fallen branch he saw two silhouettes against the rising sun.  
"You blue bastards… again..!" He hissed silently between his teeth. "Didn't Drake kill you lot?" As the two blue beasts seemed to move to the left, Harry silently crept to the right, disappearing from sight. He hurriedly jumped a few broken columns and approached the wall. His hand was still hurting from the splinters, and the bruises all over his body still made him think twice before scaling it. Yet he did this, as it was the only way out of this hidden valley. Carefully climbing, always on the lookout for the blue beasts, he reached a part of the walkway still intact. Well safely up he stopped, letting his sore hands get a rest. Luckily he was an accomplished climber, and it did not take long until he was on his way up again, climbing towards the vast blue sky above.

The destroyed bridge was a surprise. He could not understand how one man could destroy an entire bridge by himself! As he climbed up and down the rubble he could not rid himself of the feeling that someone was watching him. But as he turned around, again and again, there was no one there. Still the hair at his neck told him otherwise. It made him double his pace. He only stopped to drink at springs coming down the hillside. Although he was hungry he could not stop to find something to eat. At midday the sun was high above him in the clear sky. The trees rustled lightly in the wind, as if encouraging his climb up the steep rocks. Even if the temperature was not warm, he was sweating by the time he climbed the cracked stones that lead to the entrance, or exit, of Shambhala. Allowing himself a rest, Harry looked over the valley. The eerie silence made him forget time for a while. He just looked out over the ruins, contemplating on the beauty of it all. Perhaps this was the beauty Tibetan monks strived for in their meditation? He could not know, yet it was an enchanting landscape. Far on the other side, a thunderstorm of black clouds and lightning flashes began making its decent towards the valley. Harry looked down on the trees, whose leaves had stopped moving. It was then that he saw them; hiding in the darkness of the lower jungle were the beast-men. Feeling his heart race at the thought of the odds he slowly got to his feet. Pretending not to notice them he turned towards the exit gateway, taking a long breath. It did not help calm him. The adrenaline was already in his system. He took one step, then another. After that he could not restrain himself and broke into a run. It was a scared rush, much faster than his usual running pace. Behind him something gave up a shout. Not daring to look over his shoulder Harry ran for his life.

The vast hall seemed endless as he ran over the turning platforms. The dark shadows falling from the demonic faces made the ground look full of holes. Calling behind him were at least five of those bluish beasts that had followed him from the Tree. Suddenly a blue ball of resin flew over his head, landing to his right. The explosion following its landing blew Harry off his feet, sending him flying over the edge of the platform. Half a second he was blind from the explosion, then he came to his senses and grabbed a protruding piece of rock on the side of the platform. The force of gravity exerted its toll on his body, almost making him lose grip of the stone. For a second he hung there, concentrating on keeping his balance. Then he heard the beasts approach. He looked around, finding that if he scaled down the platform's foot he could reach the water below without killing himself. He also saw that a red coloured stain was spreading on his shirt. Touching his neck with his free hand he realized there was a wound there. But it did not bother him; if he died… then he was ready for it. Now he needed to get down! Letting go of the rock he fell a few metres before grabbing hold of the next ledge. Above him, blue faces appeared. Harry retrieved the FAL and fired off a few rounds at them. Due to the fact that he was holding the rifle with one hand, the shots flew in a variety of directions, but some hit home and the faces disappeared.

"Go to Hell." He muttered while dropping down even further. Then he let go and splashed down into the sparkling dark blue water. The sensation was beyond words. It was as if someone had applied ice cubes to his entire body. His muscles cramped from the unutterable coldness. For a moment the brain could not cope with the chill. But then after a few seconds adjustments Harry found himself wide awake, stone-cold and sinking. He forced his legs to propel him upwards towards the crystal surface of the water. He knew he had to get out of the water within a few minutes; otherwise he would stay forever in it. With a gasp his head reached the surface. The blue beasts were now jumping down ledges as well. Upon seeing them he started crawling towards the opposite side of the pool of water. There he had jumped with Drake, and there he knew was the way out of this terrible cavern of demons. Upon reaching the stone, he was terrified as he could not feel his own hands. They had gone all numb in the water and now only his sight allowed him to see what they were doing. Driving himself upwards, out of the cold, he leapt upwards, once almost slipping back into the cold abyss from which he had ascended.

It was an infinitely long way up. Upon reaching the firm ground of the blue glowing ante-chamber he collapsed onto the ground, shivering. In front of him was the blue orb, still burning. How long, he wondered, did the resin burn? A few days? A week? He looked at the hypnotizing blue light but was disturbed by the sound of chatter behind his back. Annoyed he looked around. The two blue beasts that had remained on top of the walkway had spotted him. By now, Harry barely knew what his body was doing. Getting up and running towards the stairs was as much based on the instinct of survival as it was on reasonable thought. He was up the first flight of steps in three big leaps. As he looked upwards, he saw that the entrance was sealed. His eyes moved to the waterwheels. They were silent and still, as no water was coming down from the openings. The channels must be dry! A sparkle of hope made his stiff, shivering body to do a final leap up into the air. Grabbing hold of the ledge with both hands, he put all his will into a single upwards pull, heaving his tired self up into the water channel. It was barley big enough to fit him, and it would certainly not have fit Drake. He could feel the clawing at his feet by the blue beasts. Dragging himself forward, towards the light, he could feel first his left shoe then his right shoe disappear. And then there was endless white in front of him. Knowing he had escaped the beasts, he took a final look at the snow around him, and closed his eyes.


	2. II: TIBET

II. TIBET  
It was unbearably hot where he was. For a moment Harry thought that perhaps it had all been a bad dream, caused by the tropical sun of Burma. Perhaps he had just fallen asleep in the sun? Slowly he managed to open his eyes, but his vision was blurred. It was a ceiling he was looking at. Almost laughing at his own sluggishness he looked sideways. His neck hurt a lot in the process, but he managed to get a glimpse of a small room, lit by a single candle. His head returned to the original position. Soon he was gone in feverish dreams.

"… still have a fever." Said a female voice with an Indian accent. Harry looked up, feeling sweat running down his forehead. Now he understood what it felt like to be sick…! It was as if his body was bruised and tired all over. His head was drained like that of a ninety year old scholar. His feet were heavy and hands cold. He had not been this sick since he was a boy… As he looked up again, the room was darker. Had he been asleep? Rising up on an elbow he saw the Indian woman was still in the room.  
"Hey… lady, where am I?" He rasped. Suffering from a soar throat, it was not easy to talk. She jumped at his comment.  
"You are to be in bed!" She ordered and walked over to him. "Lie down." He gave up a faint grin as she pushed him down again.  
"You are from India?" He asked.  
"Indeed I am… very clever of you!" She said sarcastically. "And you are British I now hear."  
"I like your accent." He said. "Refreshing." She just gave him a glance while straightening her sari.  
"If you knew how bad you looked, you would not try to… impress me." She said. Harry was taken slightly aback by the comment.  
"What is your name?" He finally inquired.  
"My name is Sanjana Savitashri." She answered while pouring up some cold water into a bucket.  
"Gentle lustre of the sun." He said, once again reclining on one of his elbows to be able to see her. She looked up from the water.  
"You know Indian?" She asked. "I am impressed…"  
"I know many languages…" He said. "Where am I?"  
"You are in the monastery outside which you were found." Harry stiffened slightly. _Damn_. He thought. "I was on a pilgrimage, but when I heard that the monks here needed help to treat the wounded, I abandoned the pilgrimage. It was me who found you."  
"Very… unselfish of you." Muttered Harry. Thinking that if he would have found himself lying about, he would most probably have left himself.  
"I found you by the great tree."  
"Where… are my things?" He asked.  
"In the box by your feet." Sanjana answered. "Only a pair of clothes and a small pouch." He lay back on his pillow. Then his treasure was still safe then! Sanjana came up to him with a cold wet cloth, putting it on his forehead.  
"Now…" She said. "Sleep." And so he did.

The next morning came rapidly. The bright pale sun shone down from the endless blue above. Harry had woken without fever, felling much better. He had got out of the too small bed, pulled his torn, but washed, jeans on and looked out the window. Outside were the remains of the Tibetan temple. They were almost ruins, as if a God of War had descended upon them to wreak revenge for some profanity. He was obviously living in a corner of a courtyard, in something that he guessed had been a storage wing. Judging by the looks of the people walking below, he guessed there was more wounded here. Touching his neck, he could only feel a faint sting where there had been a wound. He also discovered a five-day stubble on his chin.

"Not looking our best today, eh?" He mumbled to himself while turning towards the room again. After going through all drawers, he finally found something that resembled a jumper. He brought it to the window, examining it in the light. Made out of yak hair it was dark grey with yellow rims. Not daring to put it on directly he first took on his grey stained t-shirt. Although it had been washed too, it had clearly seen better days. Now he pulled on the yak hair jumper. Thankfully it did not itch much. He went again to the window. Instantly his thought went to planning on how he was to get out of here. If he was lucky, there would be Jeeps left. If there were none left… He shuddered at the thought of trekking down. Tomorrow… he could not go today. But he did need supplies.

About an hour later he had managed to relieve some monk of a pair of sturdy boots, gather a week's worth of food in a backpack and supply himself with a boiling pot. It was not hard, as he was an adept thief. Perhaps not the best of treasure hunters, he admitted to himself, but taking guarded objects was his speciality! Now he stood in a corner of the hastily put together kitchen, observing. People came and went, taking food from the two old ladies standing cooking over a great sparkling fire. For a time he just looked at them. Then, when a larger group of people came by, he moved slightly… taking a few water bottles from a shelf. Filling them would not be a problem. As he turned and was about to leave, some new faces appeared from a side entrance, making him spin around towards the cooking ladies again. He could not believe it! How could _they_ still be here?!? He listened again. It was indeed Chloe, he knew that voice well by now… And that damn Sullivan. Why was he even in Tibet? Harry edged around the room, always with the back towards the couple, before sneaking out into the courtyard. There he stopped. If they were here, then Drake was here…

"That smell…" He could hear Chloe say. "It smells like…"  
"Porridge?" Asked Sully.  
"No, not _that_ smell…!" She laughed at him."Probably nothing… it can't be…"  
"No." Harry mumbled to himself while slipping back up the stairs, carefully allowing himself to remain unseen. "It _can't _be…"

By evening, when the sun had already set behind the soaring mountains, he had shuffled the backpack and boots under the bed. As dusk settled, he was pretending to be asleep when Sanjana returned. She was talking to someone at the door. He did not know the voice.  
"Tomorrow perhaps. I think he can be moved then, his wounds heal quickly."  
"We'll come at eight. Are you sure?" Said the voice, it sounded Indian as well. Was Sanjana not alone?  
"Yes, now be quiet, or you will wake him."The door was closed. He lay listening to Sanjana for a while as she shuffled about in the room. Then his thoughts wandered away from the room, out to the courtyard. There were three rooms leading out towards the unguarded back wall, which he would have to scale in the early dawn, to be able to reach the front gates. That he could do with relative ease. The problem was getting out of the door unnoticed. Sanjana had obviously decided to park herself in his room for the night.

Without noticing it himself, Harry drowsed off somewhere after midnight, partly due to the lack of activity. As he woke he was first gripped by a fear that it was already too late. Feeling the blood rush back to his sleepy head, he became wide awake. He rose from the bed as silent as a snake and looked over towards the other side. In the dim light of early morning Sanjana's hair looked almost grey as she slept on her pillow. The candle had gone out. Tiptoeing across the wooden floor he retrieved one of her scarves, then thought again and took two. For a moment he lingered just above her, like some waiting Dracula, before quickly grabbing her and tying her down. She did not have the time to utter a sound before being gagged.

"There, there, love. Now try not to move… If you fall down, the floor's pretty hard…" He gave up a grin. As far as he could see, it was not returned. It did not bother him. Instead he quickly pulled out the boots and backpack from underneath his bed. He had not cared to undress after his little midday walk, so he only needed to put on the boots and he would be ready. It was done quickly. Finally he checked the pouch with the resin. It was there. Pleased to be on the safe side, he tied the pouch back to his belt. Then, silently, he approached the window. A shadow falling over the walkway outside told him there was one guard. He snuck over to the door. As he opened it with the greatest care, a big back, like that of a boxer, appeared in front of him. Harry grabbed him, putting one hand over his mouth while kicking him behind his knee. It made the big man topple over. Harry dragged him back into the room and snapped his neck. Compared to the Shambhalan blue beasts, even _big_ humans were nothing! Leaving the dead man in the room, Harry closed the door and walked away with soft steps towards the doors that lead to the back wall. For a second he felt like someone was watching him, but as he looked over the deserted courtyard, there were only shadows and a lone lantern, squeaking on its hinges as it dangled in the faint wind. Yet, the courtyard made him uneasy, and he hurried silently into one of the rooms.

It was lit up by a single candle. Harry scurried into a dark corner, afraid that the inhabitant of the room might wake. But the person in the bed did not move. Reassured he went around the bed, but stopped as the flickering light revealed the face of Fisher, that persistent journalist he had blown half way to heaven. He was surprised that she was still alive! Obviously her health was not that good, and she had had no help from the blue sap. Lying in the bed, she was pale and bruised, as far as Harry could see. Why hadn't the monks done anything about that? He looked annoyed at the window, then back at Fisher. Weren't they supposed to be the enlightened ones? His hand lowered it self to the pouch of sap. He carefully untied it, picked two not too big pieces of sap and put them into a glass of water that stood by the bed. It was unclear even to him why he did so, but then he had a vague recollection that Fisher had been the _only one_ that had actually tried to help him. He did not regret trying to blast Drake to the moon, but he had nothing personal against Fisher… So he reasoned as he took the glass from the bedside table. Then he blew out the light and carefully touched Fisher by the shoulder. He could see her eyes opening; they glimmered in the faint light of early dawn. He hushed her as she tried to speak.

"Don't talk…" He said in a low voice. "Drink..!" He urged her. She took a small sip of the blue water, then another. Harry was almost taken aback with the recovery rate. Soon Fisher had drained the whole glass. "All right, sweetheart, now sleep… Tomorrow you'll be so much better…" As she turned over, he could see the scars passing from her face. Within seconds she was asleep again. He turned to the window, opening it enough so he could lower himself out from the windowsill.

After a few minutes he had carefully climbed around the outer wall of the monastery. The wind was colder here, but also refreshing. In the east a faint lightening of the night-black sky could be seen. The stars were slowly fading. As he edged around a corner, a shadow leapt over the rooftop, almost making him lose grip of the stone he was clinging to. He froze in the uncomfortable position, but there came no noise from above. Deciding there was no time to waste he leapt daringly over the dark abyss to the wall on the opposite side. It was then that he heard a silent growl behind his back, one that he knew all too well! He jumped up to the roof, pulling himself up onto it. As he looked over to the other side he saw, in the faint light, the silhouette of one of the beast-men.

Disguised as a yeti, but still… Cursing he crawled to his feet and ran away, towards the gates of the monastery. A heavy thumping behind his back told him he was pursued. For a time he simply ran, then another hairy beast emerged, holding a crossbow. Something hard and pointy pierced his chest, making him fall and roll down the roof. As he went over the edge of it, he realized that it had been one of those cursed crossbow bolts that had struck him. For a moment he was sure the cold waters of the Himalayan river would swallow him, but instead he landed on hard ground. Somehow, he had managed to run across the rooftops all the way to the entrance of the monastery! Baffled, he realized that he had no recollection of ever crossing the river. Yet, he was there. With a groan he got up on his knees, grabbing the bolt attached to his chest. But before he had the time to pull it out, he felt cold metal against his neck.

"Stop!" Said Sanjana. "You won't get away!"  
"What… you again…?" Harry asked confused, while trying to pull the bolt out. It wasn't helping that it hurt like hell. "Shit!" He said to himself.  
"You thought you were safe as you left India? Tell me where the Sankara stones are!"  
"The Sankara stones…? I stole them over a year ago!"  
"And now you will return them to India!" Harry winced at the comment. An Indian agent… in the Himalayas… searching for something he had sold a long time ago. He slowly rose and turned around, slightly amused by the look on Sanjana's face as she saw the bolt in his chest. He pulled it out.  
"It took you a year to find me?" He asked.  
"I… yes, I found you, and nursed you back to health so that you may face your charges!" Harry flinched slightly at a shadow that had appeared above Sanjana. She, on the other hand, seemed to be looking at his wound instead. It felt as if it had already closed up somewhat.  
"Look behind yourself." He said.  
"Oh please…" She said, but then heard the growl. She froze, and then turned. That was the signal for Harry that it was time to leave. He turned and ran. The thumping behind his back returned.


	3. III Borneo

III. BORNEO

Harry looked behind himself. The silent lush jungle of Borneo stretched out all around him, lulling him into a sense of security. Yet, he thought he heard something behind himself as he ascended the small trail up towards the mountain temple. Finding a dry enough stone he sat down. It had been thanks to luck and finesse that he had managed to escape both those damn blue beasts and Sanjana. As he had ran down the hill from the gates of the monastery, he had found a jeep. It had belonged to some old monk judging by the prayer beads hanging from the rear view window. He had jumped into it, pulling out his handy set of lockpicks from his pocket. What would he have done without them? The ignition had been child's-play to unlock. With his foot on the gas, he had removed himself from both the outer premises of the monastery as well as from the grunting beasts within half a minute. After the escapade, he had stopped to look down and check to his pouch, but it had been _gone_! Cursing violently, Harry had not believed that he had managed to lose the only thing he really treasured! In the end he had forced himself to drive off, as he valued his own life more than _any_ blue resin in the world. On its way down the jeep had run out of petrol and Harry had been forced to hike down the rest of the way, passing all of Lazarevich's inflicted destruction to the countryside in slow motion. By the time he was on a plane out of Tibet, his feet were sore, his clothes were dirty and his last money gone. But he had gained a valuable insight on his way down from the ancient mountain peaks to the lush lands of Tibetan civilization…

It had been during the second week of walking, when he had been recalling the events at Borneo, that he remembered the grim old ruins in the shadow of the mountain. There, among hundreds of skeletons, he had seen the blue resin! He had been standing over it, wondering what it had been, when Drake had escaped from Chloe and he had been forced back up to the surface. After that insight, the remaining days of hiking had been easier. And now he was back in Borneo. He did not have any real money left, but he hoped to find some junk in the ruins to sell. And then… he would sell the resin, to the highest bidder. Harry's thoughts drifted off towards all the things he could do with that amount of money… The wind picked up slightly, making the leaves dance above his head. He took a sip of water from his canteen. It was warm. _He_ was warm… and sweating. It was not far to the temple now.

As he continued to ascend the mountain, the warmth grew, enveloping him like a woollen blanket on a hot summer's day. He came to the vantage point that overlooked the bay and found some relief in the slight breeze coming from the ocean. It sparkled beneath him like a deep blue mirage, tempting him to return down to it, with its alluring sound of waves breaking on the beach. Behind him stood one of the moss covered eldritch statues belonging to the temple. In a light pace he walked upwards past it, finally coming upon the hole leading down into the ruins. As he was looking down into the dim interior below, he once again felt uneasy. Remembering the escapades in Shambhala, Harry carefully looked around before pulling off some hard shelled berries growing on a nearby tree. He spread them over the path leading up to the hole. If someone followed him, he would hear! Then, with a slightly grouchy expression on his face he jumped down.

At first there was only darkness. Slowly, Harry's eyes adjusted to the dim interior, his hand went to his pocket, where he had, next to his lockpick, a lighter. It lit up the crumbling chamber with a flickering orange-yellow light, bringing out the cracks and deep shadows of the interior. He passed the old piles of bones; their owners had all died because of the sap. Had they gone insane after too much of it? Perhaps… He did not care, really. Why care about the dead when one could spend money on the living? Kicking away some of them from his path, he entered a long chamber with columns on each side, soaring up into the murky ceiling. And there, by the back wall he found the blue twinkle his eyes were searching for.

"Oh, there you are!" He whispered to himself. All the fatigue that had gathered in his body suddenly disappeared, as if vaporized by the brilliant sparkling of the resin. He approached it slowly, afraid that there would come beasts or treasure hunters jumping out of the shadows. But none came. With a small laugh of relief Harry took the blue ball of sap from the torch-handle and examined it. It was slightly charred. Had Drake been burning it? He frowned at the thought. Wrapping the resin up in a piece of cloth, he put it in his backpack. Hopefully, he would notice if _it_ fell of!

Still holding the lighter in one hand, he turned and went back towards the exit. As he approached the crumbling pillar he would have to climb back up, he returned the lighter to his pocket. As he was looking down, something dropped on the back of his head, making him grouch. When he realized it was a berry, he already heard someone above him. It was an Indian man, who looked as surprised to see Harry as Harry was surprised to see him. He darted into the dark interior of the temple before the man could get a proper glance of him. But alas, the man was already on his way down. Harry, who had stalked around the interior to the other side, could now see other people, among them was Sanjana. He didn't even bother to curse his bad luck, at least this time he had known, or rather felt, someone behind him, he had been prepared.

As he quickly walked back towards the hall where he had found the resin, he retrieved a rope from his backpack. Onto it he tied a hook. Finding himself back on the obscure back of the hall once again, he swung the rope around a few laps before he threw it high up into a crack.  
"Lovely." He muttered to himself as the hook secured itself.  
"There!" He heard a familiar voice call. After it came the whining noise of an RPG. Instinctively he fell to the floor, covering his ears with his hands. The blast rolled him straight into a pillar, and the small fragments rained over him like a hailstorm. The air became filled with smoke and debris, but at the same time, light shone through a newly formed hole in the ceiling. The blast wave must have dislodged an old rock there. A foul smell also leaked out of the hole that the RPG had blown up in the back wall. Deciding he had no time to brood on it just that second, Harry grabbed hold of the rope and swung himself upwards. After a few tugs upwards, a strange noise, as that of a wild animal made him look down. He wished he had not. Just beneath his feet stood something he could only describe as a thin human like figure. The hair was long and torn, hanging down the back. The eyes were vacant and the teeth black. Harry hung cramped to the rope for a few seconds, staring at the abomination. Was it one of Marco's crew? Still alive? It looked like it had not eaten for… ages!

Returning to his senses, Harry focused and began hauling himself up the rope. The thing made some low sounding noise and started up the rope. The noises it made under his feet certainly spurred Harry upwards faster than he had ever climbed before. His hands were burning as he made it to the top, yet he clung to the rope harder than ever. He looked down and saw the… _thing_, it was farther down. Harry let go of the rope with one hand and began fumbling after a knife. He pulled it out and locking his feet in position on the rope, began cutting off the rope underneath himself. Slowly, slowly the rope began untwining. The thing began reaching or him, its cold fingers almost grabbing his wrist. Harry just lunged at it with the knife and severed half of the hand from the arm. The thing retreated just enough just to give him time to cut the rope. The rope underneath his feet fell, as did the creature. Harry clambered up the remaining part of the rope and wrapped it around his right hand, and then he did the same to his feet. Now he finally managed to relax at least a part of his body and looked down.

It was chaos; it looked like at least ten of the creatures had been somehow locked behind the back wall of the temple for God knows how long until Sanjana and her crew had managed to RPG it into oblivion. Now they were… eating her companions. He was so tired of monster people! He changed the hold from his right to his left hand. Sanjana managed to down two of the things before she was forced to retreat back up to the surface. Luckily, they all seemed to rush after her and her companions instead of paying any attention to Harry. As the silence settled itself over the ancient pillared hall, he dried some sweat from his forehead and looked up. It seemed that that the carvings in the ceiling seemed sturdy enough for him to be able to make it to the hole in the roof. Slowly he unfastened his feet from the rope and tried the first ledge with his hand. It held and he swung to it, then to the next and next. One almost gave away, but he managed to jump to a root hanging down from the newly formed hole. Clambering up it, he finally saw blue sky. Feeling dirt under his fingernails he knew he was almost up. Mustering his strength Harry tugged yet another few times before he sprawled out on a patch of grass. He rolled over to his back and looked at his hands, they were still burning hot and blisters had formed where they had touched the rope. He lay there for perhaps a few minutes before he saw the blisters retreating, leaving fresh skin in their place. The sap still worked? He had not dared hope it, yet it was obvious that it did.  
"Don't move!" He heard a voice say. Harry looked back, finding a man holding a gun. He was obviously one of Sanjana's mercenaries. Rising to his knees, Harry raised his hands. If only the man would come a little closer… The man looked at him and noticed his backpack. "Take it off, now!" That was all the excuse Harry needed. He slowly removed the backpack from his back, making sure it was closed properly before he threw it right in the face of the mercenary. Surprised the man had only just the time to catch it before Harry twisted the gun out of his hand. A single shot was all it took before the man rolled down the hole that Harry had just climbed out from. He could hear the _things_ below rushing towards the fresh corpse. Quickly he picked up the backpack and pulled it on. He could feel the weight of the resin inside. Noises of falling rocks made him look back, finding Sanjana on the way up. Strangely enough she did not care that he was there.  
"We need to get out of here!" She said, and then looked down on the gun. "You killed one of my men?" Harry gave up a shrug.  
"I didn't know he was yours…" He lied in a light tone. "Sorry." Sanjana just shook her head.  
"We need to get away from here, those things are coming!" She said and pointed. Harry could indeed hear the monsters crawling their way onto the roof. He looked around, deciding to take the fastest way down… Down a tree.  
"We need to go!" Sanjana said.  
"We? Why? You just launched an RPG at me!" Harry countered.  
"I just wanted to stun you a little!" She said. Harry pointed at the tree.  
"Let's go." He said. Although he did not believe her, she could perhaps be persuaded to… change allegiance. The thought had occurred to him already in the Himalayas, but he had lacked the funds at that time. Now he knew a good bargain…

They practically flew down the ancient tree. The branches were as thick as bodies, so it was just a question of getting down before the monsters did. Stumbling down on the ground Harry pulled up Sanjana and pushed her forward.  
"Well, come on, run!" He yelled and looked behind himself. The damn buggers were fast! They both ran down the hill, past the overgrown statues and broken walls. As Sanjana began too sag, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along. "Down there!" He said and pointed at the drop from which Drake had jumped together with that old thing named Sullivan. How had he even survived the jump? Harry had not pursued Drake down at that time, but now he really had no choice but to go down the same way Drake had. Pulling a screaming Sanjana over the edge, he took a long breath and jumped. The pitched screams of Marco Polo's crew died away as he fell further and further down.

For the second time in a few months he landed in cold water. Once again there was a slight delay in sense and perception as he sank down, but then his senses returned and he managed to propel himself upward. The cold mountain water seemed quite endless and he was almost out of breath as he broke the surface. The current was quite strong, dragging him along further downstream. After gasping some air, Harry began looking for Sanjana. She had to be further downstream, so he floated as best he could, looking for her. Eventually he found her; she had managed to get her head above water. As the current slowed down, the both managed to get ashore.  
"So we are even now?" He asked. "You saved my life, I saved yours."  
"Even..?" Sanajana coughed up. "Sure, whatever, I'm going arrest you… Bring you back to India…" Harry sat down next to her.  
"I have another idea."  
"What?"  
"Something that would allow you to make some serious money, not simply that low salary India's Antiquity Department pays you." He squeezed out some water from his shirt. Behind his leg was the gun, just in case. She just looked at him.  
"Are you bribing a public official?" She asked.  
"Corrupting you to the very essence of your being!"He joked. "If you want the Sanakara stones so badly, we can go get them… I know where the client I sold them to lives… On the way we can pick up some more shiny treasures… and earn serious money. If you want to buy out the stones against something of you share and return them to the people of India… I suppose such a deal would be possible."  
"You cheeky…" She began.  
"Do you really think your department would miss you?" Harry asked. That certainly made her think.  
"I want to know how you managed to run away after that bolt hit you." She said.  
"If you come with me, I might tell you." Harry said. He would perhaps tell her… But he would never reveal that he had the resin with him. That was _his_ share.  
"We should get out of here… in case those things come back." Sanjana said.  
"We can continue this conversation on my boat." Harry said.  
"You have a boat?" Sanjana asked.  
"Meh…" Harry said and put the gun in his belt. He rose and pulled Sanjana up from the ground. "I stole it." His words made Sanjana laugh.  
"Oh really!" She said. "Wonderful, let's go then, to your stolen boat!"  
"Come on." He said. "To the coast."  
"But stealing the Sankara stones… from the man you sold them to…? Is there no honour among thieves?" She asked.  
"Honour among thieves?" Harry shook his head, giving up a little grin. "That's just legend, love… just legend…"


End file.
